When I die....

I want people to leave with flowers instead of bringing them.

I want tears of joy for my life.

I want stories to be as plentiful as tissue.

I want a Dixie Land Band to play the happiest funeral dirges.

A pillow made of marshmallow and
A silken blanket made of spun sugar.

But mostly I want a coffin made of solid dark chocolate.

Life it is truly too short not to have all the perks one wants in death.

Long time no see...

It's been a while, I know. I've been in something of a rut, and not that writing here is going to help me with that. It's not like I have a bevy of readers out there hanging on every blog that flows from the tips of my fingers....and if I actually do, it's not like any of them have made themselves known to me....so in essence, I am alone in cyber space. I wish I could say the same IRL.


Since I last wrote I have committed to my mother that she can stay with me until she dies. (which is a whole quagmire of emotions I'm not going to get into right now. I'll save that for another blog when I have a few hours to dedicate to my feelings and lack of feelings on that subject). But I made it clear to her that the minute I can afford to move to Oregon, I'm going.
She's welcome to come with me or she can stay here but I'm not going to put off my life because she doesn't want to move away from the roses she lets the gardeners tend to.


What is really irritating to me is the total and complete desertion I've gotten from my 'family'. My sister, who originally made the promise to my mom that she would stay with her until she died (granted, no one has expected my mother to live this long) has made it clear that under no circumstances will she ever live with our mom again. Our Mom is so tied into her that she is keeping the small room available to her so when she breaks up with her current boyfriend and her son manages to irritate her out of the apartment she shares with him that she'll have a place to stay. If I move out, I'm sure my room would be turned into her hobby and crafts room almost instantly....or she'd move into my room and turn her room into something less accommodating for my unintentional flight back to the nest. But because my sister has no intention of moving back in, and I'm sure she's still smarting (like we all are) from my mother false allegations of elder abuse, she really doesn't spend any time with her. She used to come and do her laundry at our apartment once a week, but now they have their machines back we don't see her for that any more either. She will arrange to spend a block of time here or there with her, as if in doing that it excuses her in having to do anything thing else. In the meantime, I'm trapped. She knows what's going on with me, because she was there (with me as entertainment) and she's too *busy* with her education and antique-ing that she doesn't realize that sometimes I need someone to just say "hey, let's do something." We did have that arrangement for a while, well, if you count the one month at the beginning of the year when we actually did something, but beyond that, nothing. I can't even keep a consistent family meal with her and her son once every three weeks on the books with them.


I realize I am being selfish and I am only demonstrating perfectly that the world revolves around me, but in reality this is my blog, so it does revolve around me.


I've started a new process of how to think and treat people. It's been helping with being angry at people when they don't live up to a basic modicum of treatment of me. I can't write people out of my life because they hurt me, well, not family any way. At least not family that I have to deal with on a regular basis. I change to designate them as "pets". I have a pet, as most of you know, who I consider to be more than a pet. She will come and sit on my shoulder, give me kisses and hugs, eat food out of my plate and rip the ice cold water glass out of my mouth so she can have a drink too. I can play with her, but if I go too far she lets me know, and when she goes too far I let her know. We have a good grown-up relationship. I don't have this kind of relationship with a lot of the members of my family, and when I don't, you get knocked down to "pet" status. It's not a cruel place to be, by any means. Pets are supposed to be pampered, they're supposed to be fed and cuddled and treated like special highlights in a humans life. Then when they bite you or when they pee on your leg, you aren't shocked, hurt or surprised. And, when it reaches either an ephemeral point in time, you can crate them and cover them and go about doing what you need to do without worrying about what they are doing, caring about what cars or other puppies their chasing in their dreams, it just doesn't have to be anything more than a curiosity to me....and my stress/anger/hurt feelings have really lightened up since then.


Well, I need to get back to work now. I feel a little lighter now that I've got that off my chest. If there actually is someone out there that reads my blogs, let me know so I don't have to labor under the delusion that I'm alone. Thanks!